


Desire, Desperation, Devotion

by FangsScalesSkin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other, PWP, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Tender Sex, Unresolved Sexual Tension, with feelings!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22036786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangsScalesSkin/pseuds/FangsScalesSkin
Summary: "Oh, Crowley, I do love you.""You do?""I thought that was obvious enough last night.""You said you wanted me, not that you love me. Can shag someone without being in love."-After spending lonely decades desiring Crowley, Aziraphale is determined to make their one night of desperate intimacy count. With words left lingering unsaid afterwards, it takes a heart-to-heart and a second time together to make clear the depth of devotion they share.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 318





	Desire, Desperation, Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ejotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ejotter/gifts).



Desire was a tricky thing. Knowing what he wanted made it harder to ignore, not easier. Ever since 1941 when it crystalised with a gasp, a snap into focus, he had been trying as best he could to ignore his desire or substitute it for something safe with very little success.

Indulging his fantasies made it increase, not diminish. Ignoring it made it increase, not diminish, until he couldn't stand it anymore and found himself rutting into a pillow in his small and barely-used bedroom. Anything he did made it increase, not diminish, and he couldn't have what he really wanted - Crowley's love and adoration and the touch of his hands and his lips - so the want kept growing and twining itself into every hairline crack in Aziraphale's granite bolster of self-abnegation, and even though he only ever seemed to practice self-denial when it came to Crowley because all his other little indulgences were safe, his desire was vigorous and the cracks in his granite self kept widening as desire forced them open.

Forced him with shameful regularity to his knees in that poky little room, tugging on his cock or fingering his cunt until he came to thoughts of Crowley, singular and devoted and indulgent and good in ways he'd never admit and wicked in ways that made him all the more attractive. _L'appel du vide._

Desire was deep-rooted in Aziraphale enough now, wants of flesh and blood familiar enough to him, that even if he were to return to being an entity of pure thought and light again, he would still desire for Crowley in body and soul. It was impossible to forget desire once tasted, he’d found. It was a craving like that for a particular dish, only he couldn’t pop to a bistro down the road and indulge himself in the taste until the craving passed, because it never passed, because even his thoughts of Crowley were a pale facsimile of having Crowley. 

Oscar Wilde had the right of it, he thought despairingly. _The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful._

Yielding, having what he really wanted, that was never an option for Aziraphale, not with the laws of Heaven keeping him from Crowley, from saying how he really felt in ways other than lingering glances and significant gestures. He could only hope that Crowley understood, that he _knew_ he was wanted, and wanted so terribly that Aziraphale choked on it and turned any acknowledgement of his wants and feelings into a denial for fear that all of it would come tumbling out of him.

Even now in the days before the end times, when he felt like a being composed entirely of desire and dissembling, he couldn’t acknowledge it. His need to confess, to give in, to ask Crowley to have him for as long as they had left, was sharper than ever with the threat of losing it all, but Heaven’s scrutiny was sharper still. Any stolen moments were safer than one blazing moment of confession and consummation, so Aziraphale sustained himself on those crumbs of Crowley’s company all while they threw the hunger for what he couldn’t have into sharper relief. Then at night he returned to his little room and let his desire, his need, his hunger, consume him all alone.

He was back now in his solitary bedroom above the bookshop, with a single bed and just enough floor space not covered in books for him to maneuver into it. Today they had met in the V&A to compare notes, Crowley's smile gleaming as Aziraphale laughed over some smart comment about the Dowlings' security staff, a stolen moment of warmth. Aziraphale let himself be swayed into indulging in a slice of cake at the museum café, though he was really indulging in Crowley's presence and attention. He could let himself have that, that little taste of what he wanted in the only safe way he could get it. They never touched.

It was really just as well, because if they did touch Aziraphale might collapse under the weight of his wanting. He imagined it now, safe and solitary in his small room, and aching so badly for what he couldn't have, what he couldn't admit aloud to wanting. Oh, and how he _wanted_. He wanted Crowley's hands on him. Would they be warm or cold? Soft, definitely soft, for all they were slender. He had snuck glances, knew they bore no calluses.

Aziraphale lay back on top of the bed, clothed except for his trousers and underthings, with his eyes closed trying to imagine that the hand he had around his cock was Crowley’s and not his own. It didn’t work terribly well. His hands were soft, yes, but not so spindly, and of course the angle was wrong. He whimpered in frustration - of all the times for his imagination to betray him! - and thought back to Crowley watching him at the café, over his coffee. Ah. Yes. That was the ticket. It wouldn’t take much to imagine Crowley watching him so intently now too. 

He let his mouth hang open with panting, tongue wetting his lips as they grew dry, and fucked into his hand with more vigour than he usually would. Surely Crowley would like to see him put on a show - Crowley was always watching, circling him when they were together. It was the demon’s way of staving off the unspoken hunger between them. He’d watch and drink it all in, unblinking as only a serpent could be, while Aziraphale took himself apart with nothing but a hand to show Crowley how brought low he was with _want_ , brought right down to the Earth along with humanity, the experts in desire ever since Eden. Crowley had taught the humans with the apple, and Aziraphale had learned from them over slow millennia, thoroughly enough to need to show Crowley his mastery of the lesson. Crowley would be so very pleased.

It was this thought and the image of Crowley’s sly smile that brought him over the edge. Aziraphale lay there on the bed simply breathing for a long moment, letting all the endorphins his fleshy vessel released so eagerly at climax soothe him into a pleasant daze until they began to wear off and his loneliness intruded again. With a grimace, he miracled away the mess and took a shuddering breath before smoothing his cock away into nothingness, its job done for the time being.

There were only a few short years until Armageddon and yet he still couldn’t let himself have what he really wanted.

\--

They were touching. They were touching. They had held hands on the bus and now Aziraphale was back at Crowley’s flat and he deliberately brushed their hands together when Crowley had handed him a glass of wine and they had to figure out the prophecy and had so little time, but oh, they were together.

Aziraphale’s hand shook holding the wine glass. Still not close enough.

“Crowley, I can’t - I can’t do this.”

“Do what, Angel?” Crowley’s sunglasses were off and he looked openly concerned. Vulnerable.

“I don’t - know how to say it.” Oh God above, he would have to say it. “I want you.”

“You have me, ‘m right here.”

“Oh, don’t be obtuse,” Aziraphale said acidly, then winced at the snappishness of his own tone. 

“Genuinely not sure what you’re talking about,” Crowley said slowly, setting down his glass and the prophecy on the kitchen counter. He looked a combination of hurt and hopeful. Aziraphale deeply regretted his defensiveness of the moment before, recalling the terrible argument at the bandstand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean… That was uncalled for.” Aziraphale made a plaintive noise, searched for the words, couldn’t find them. “I _want_ you.” That was all he had. It came out in a lovelorn sigh, all the weight of years of hopeless desire behind it.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he leaned over to take Aziraphale’s glass from him, setting it on the counter next to his own. Then he was crowding Aziraphale against the counter, close enough for their noses to touch and their breath to mingle.

“Like this?” For all the assertiveness of stepping so close, his voice wavered, soft, and he laid a palm on Aziraphale's cheek.

The tension stretched for a moment, both quite forgetting to breathe, until the last of Aziraphale's self-denial crumbled away in the face of having Crowley right in front of him. He caught the back of Crowley's head and mashed their lips together with an utter lack of finesse and the only thought in his head the drum beat of want, want, want, in time with his heart.

Crowley didn't seem to mind, thankfully, and made muffled noises into the kiss while grabbing at Aziraphale's lapels.

Without the need to breathe that kiss went on for a long, long time, as each poured out their desperate longing for each other without words. They only broke apart when Aziraphale felt a sob threatening to burst from his chest and hot tears gather in his eyes.

"Oh shit, oh fuck, Angel, what did I do? Fuck, I shouldn't have done anything, I knew I'd ruin this." Crowley was immediately frantic, wiping Aziraphale's tears away and trying to step back before Aziraphale tightened his grip on his shoulders.

"N-no. It's not you." Aziraphale forced his body to take hitching breaths. "I never thought I would have the chance to do that, and we have so very little time left, my dearest."

"We'll figure it out." Despite the confident words Crowley sounded as wrecked as Aziraphale felt. "But. Right this second I think we need this. I need this. Aziraphale. Angel. I need you."

Aziraphale managed a watery smile, leaning his forehead against Crowley's. 

"You need me? I've been quite terrible to you in the last few days, are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Crowley growled. There was the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes. "I've never been so sure of anything. Listen, we're here now. Let's make the most of the time we have left. If we make it out of tomorrow alive you can make it up to me properly, but for now..."

"Yes, darling, you have a point…"

"Kiss me once and I'm your darling, huh?" There was a bitter twist of Crowley's lips and, oh dear, Aziraphale had really hurt him badly, hadn't he?

"You have always been my darling. Just - I couldn't acknowledge it until now." 

"Yeah, alright." Crowley nodded to himself, glancing away to the ground and then back to Aziraphale's face. If they made it out alive, Aziraphale resolved to tell him that enough until he believed it, until the angel had soothed the pain that he himself had inflicted.

"Let me kiss you again?" Aziraphale smoothed his fingers over Crowley's cheekbones and looked into his eyes. It was lovely to see them at a time other than when both of them were drunk; Crowley had retreated more into himself over the centuries, keeping his eyes hidden even from Aziraphale. How much of that was a loss of hope that they would ever move beyond the fragile equilibrium of the Arrangement?

"Don't need to ask," Crowley said, and without any further prompting or waiting for Aziraphale to make the next move he curled his fingers in Aziraphale's jacket again and pressed their mouths together, the subtly forked tip of his tongue flicking against Aziraphale's lower lip to ask for entry. Aziraphale parted his lips and let Crowley deepen the kiss. Crowley's tongue was really something else, and the angel's lonely fantasies couldn't have anticipated how _good_ it felt. 

Aziraphale's body had decided quite without his conscious input that all of this and the press of his chest against Crowley’s must mean his desires were about to be consummated. He noticed this when quite a lot of his blood went abruptly to the cock he hadn't had moments before, leaving him to flush and stagger in place, leaning heavily against Crowley. He whimpered into the kiss. Decades of touching himself to thoughts of Crowley and of course he was weak at the knees now that he had him, regardless of the direness of the circumstances. If he had to excuse himself to Crowley's bathroom to jerk off until he could think clearly about the prophecy, he would…

Crowley pulled back a few inches, prompting Aziraphale to let out an involuntary and rather embarrassing whine at the loss.

"Do you," Crowley panted, and oh, his eyes were all golden, "uh," he licked his lips and looked around the room as if for words, "you know?"

He made a very rude gesture with his hands and Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh abruptly at how unbelievable a situation it was. Crowley seemed to shrink under the sound, which cut the laughter off in his throat.

"Yes, yes, yes I do. I've been thinking about you for years. Do you want to, well… If you don't, I will have to excuse myself to, ah, take care of things before I can even _think_ about the prophecy."

"Of course I do. Don't be _daft_." Crowley grinned. "Knew you had it in you, Angel."

Aziraphale blushed, an absolute smörgåsbord of possibilities coming to mind of what they might do first. It was almost enough to distract him entirely from the lingering feeling of impending doom.

"You are very hard to resist, you know… You never really had to try to tempt me to have me all aflutter." 

"Could have fooled me," Crowley said mildly, and Aziraphale felt a pang of regret which was only silenced by Crowley steering him deeper into the cavernous flat. "Come on, bedroom's this way. If we only have one chance, I might as well make this _nice_ and not do it up against the desk or whatever."

The jolt of heat that went through Aziraphale at the thought of it told him he probably wouldn't have minded up against the desk, or on Crowley's chair, or against the wall, but he didn't say that. Crowley obviously had ideas of how he wanted this to go. He must have been imagining it himself for some time. That sent a delightful thrill all of its own through Aziraphale.

It was a rather protracted process getting to Crowley’s room, the both of them stopping each other along the way for another kiss, another touch. Now that they had started it was so difficult to stop, if only for the moment. That was desire again, only increasing, never diminishing. If Aziraphale had thought it was powerful before, he had no idea how strong it would become once he permitted himself to truly feel it. He almost asked Crowley to stop in the doorway and take him right there despite the bed being only a scant few strides away.

They got to the bed somehow in the end, and there Aziraphale’s patience ran out and he pulled Crowley right down on top of him, ending up in a messy sprawl on the bed with arms and legs everywhere. Crowley laughed, and it was a warm sound.

“All this time and you were holding yourself back, Angel.” 

“I don’t think I can, anymore. It’s all sort of just…” Aziraphale made a fluttering motion with his hand attempting to symbolise his self-control flying away.

“Good. If I didn’t make you so horny you thought you were going to straight-up discorporate, I’d be losing my touch.”

“If you want to check for yourself…” Aziraphale couldn’t finish the sentence, already stunning himself with his daring in going so far as to take Crowley’s wrist and guide his hand to rest atop the insistent bulge between the angel’s legs. Still clothed, mind you, but hardly doing much to disguise his erection.

“Mmmm.” Crowley’s eyes lit up. “Ready to go for me, huh?”

“Y-yes.” The light pressure on his erection as Crowley gave it a bit of a squeeze pulled an embarrassing, undignified, but undoubtedly erotic noise right from him. Aziraphale pressed further into the touch, chasing the feeling, burying his face in the crook of Crowley’s neck. “Ohh, oh, Crowley, I don’t think I’ll last very long at all.” 

“Don’t see the problem with that.” Crowley was fiddling with the front of Aziraphale’s trousers now, freeing his cock and running light fingers up the front of it.

“I want to see your length,” Aziraphale blurted out. “I mean - can’t we try to come together? Each touching the other?”

Crowley’s hand stilled. “There’s an idea.” He nuzzled into the soft hair at the crown of Aziraphale’s head, the affectionate gesture making Aziraphale warm in a way that didn’t have anything to do with his cock. Then Crowley hissed low, making Aziraphale warm in a way that definitely _did_. “Yessss. I like it. Best idea you’ve ever had.”

“Oh shush. Don’t make me blush.”

“Bit late for that.” Crowley leaned back away from Aziraphale and Aziraphale made a moue of disapproval, at least until he saw Crowley struggling with the zip front of his nonsensically tight jeans. 

Rolling his eyes, Aziraphale snapped his fingers. 

“Hey! I liked those. Where’d you put them?” The effect of Crowley’s grousing was blunted by the sight of the straining hard-on he was sporting, unmistakable now that he was nude from top to toe.

“Somewhere in the apartment. Are you really going to search for them now, Crowley? Now?” Aziraphale gestured to his own erection, saying as clear as he could without words that it was more important than the whereabouts of Crowley’s clothing.

“Guess not.” Crowley stared at Aziraphale’s cock and licked his lips. “Next time I have _got_ to suck you off.” 

That seemed to Aziraphale an optimistic statement, but he smiled.

“Your enthusiasm really is touching.” He heard Crowley mutter ‘not the only sort of touching I want to do’ under his breath. “Come over here now, please.”

Crowley slid himself into the space between Aziraphale’s legs, getting a hand around both of their cocks and leaning to press another messy kiss to his lips. His grip was more slippery than Aziraphale expected, and he made a quizzical noise as he leaned to the side to get a look. The sight of Crowley’s long slender fingers, slick with some clear substance, curled around both of their red and straining cocks - it was obscene. Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat.

Then Crowley leisurely pulled his hand from the bases to the tips of both cocks and Aziraphale gasped, bucking involuntarily. The feeling of skin sliding against skin, Crowley’s hand against Aziraphale’s cock against Crowley’s cock, was sublime. Every time the motion repeated, he whined and whimpered against Crowley’s cheek, and Crowley was panting and making small sounds too. 

“‘Sssss okay, love. Relax for me.” The breathless tenderness and need in Crowley’s voice was too much for Aziraphale. He came in Crowley’s grasp, eyes closed as euphoria washed all thought temporarily away. When he opened his eyes, there were stripes and dribbles of come all down Crowley’s hand and torso and - oh dear - down the front of Aziraphale’s waistcoat. He couldn’t fuss over that yet, though. Crowley was still hard.

“Let me, my dearest.” Aziraphale batted away Crowley’s hand and firmly took hold of the demon’s cock, stroking it at a swift pace. He wanted to see Crowley in ecstasy because of him, preferably as soon as possible. When Crowley collapsed on top of him, arms refusing to hold him up as he quivered and thrust into Aziraphale’s fist, the angel took a hold of the demon’s chin in his other hand and tipped his face up so Crowley’s dazed golden eyes and drooling mouth could be properly appreciated. It was heady to watch the mingled look of love and lust on Crowley’s face when he came, caught between Aziraphale’s hands at his chin and around his cock.

“Zzzir’phale,” he mumbled after. “How’d you get good at that?”

“Touching myself while thinking of you.”

“Oh.” Crowley had plastered himself against Aziraphale’s side as soon as the angel miracled away the mess on them both, insinuating an arm around to rest on his chest. There was a long silence as they thought more soberly about their situation. “If I have to go out… I’m glad I spent my last night with you.”

“Likewise, Crowley.” Aziraphale took his hand and laced their fingers together, hoping the gesture would say what he daren’t say, as if verbalising it would make their fates final. “While there’s still a chance, however, let’s take another look at that prophecy. We have a few hours left.”

\--

The night before lingered unspoken between them, until the celebration of their newfound freedom carried Aziraphale and Crowley back from the Ritz to Aziraphale's shop and all the way through locking the front door to finally deposit them half tipsy in comfortable chairs in the back room. 

Conversation ebbed and flowed amicably, Aziraphale basking in the sense of lightness his heart hadn't felt for thousands of years. Underneath it was the gentle pull of desire to kiss Crowley, which he was considering following before Crowley spoke up.

"You could have said something." It was more of a mumble into his wine glass than an accusation, and Crowley didn't look up to meet his eyes.

"You know I couldn't have."

"Fine. I wish you said something. I… Dunno. It's a lot to take on faith, that you wanted me around when you were always denying we were friends..." Crowley trailed off, shrugging uselessly. Aziraphale felt a pang of sadness. He had his reasons all along, but he still hurt Crowley deeply. It was time enough to start mending that hurt.

"Oh, Crowley, I do love you."

"You do?"

"I thought that was obvious enough last night."

"You said you wanted me, not that you love me. Can shag someone without being in love."

"Ah. For me it's always been both. I love you, I want you. Neither I could ever express, out of fear. But…" Aziraphale smiled shyly. "We don't have to fear now."

“Huh. Why didn’t you tell me last night? I mean, if we were going to _die_ …” Crowley seemed less subdued, but he had to poke and prod. It was his way, and Aziraphale couldn’t begrudge him it.

“It seemed awfully final. Purely irrational, but I felt as though it might seal our fate. Call it superstition if you wish.” It was Aziraphale’s turn to shrug, a melancholy expression painted across his face. They’d had the prophecy, true, but what if they had interpreted it wrong? Humans weren’t the only ones susceptible to superstition. Leaving the depth of his feelings yet unsaid meant it couldn’t possibly be the last time he ever saw Crowley.

“6000 years, and I still have no bloody clue what you’re thinking sometimes.” Crowley shook his head. “Least I didn’t die never knowing.”

Aziraphale lifted himself up out of his chair on somewhat unsteady legs and, with as much courage as he could muster, crossed the space to the couch Crowley was sprawled across and gestured for him to budge over. He had no sooner sat down than Crowley leaned against his side, lithe and sinuous as only a snake demon with a disregard for how the human spine worked could. There was a rightness to it, to very literally crossing so they were both on the one side.

“Can you guess what I’m thinking now, darling?”

“Dunno,” Crowley said, throwing an arm around him and pressing them together shoulder to hip, staring at Aziraphale with unblinking curiosity.

“I finally have everything I desire. Freedom, my bookshop in one piece, and you.” Aziraphale paused and amended his statement. “Well, almost everything except the prophecies of Agnes Nutter, but it seems a fair trade-off.”

“Sssorry, I guess I could’ve given you the burned-up copy, I didn’t really think…” Crowley looked nonplussed, even more when Aziraphale interrupted.

“Wait. That wasn’t what I was trying to say.” Aziraphale paused and rubbed at his forehead in thought, sobering himself up a bit so he was less likely to say something careless. It certainly wasn’t the time to talk about the book. _Honestly, Aziraphale_ , he chastised himself. “I love you, Crowley, and I’ve wanted you for so long that I hardly know what to do with myself now I have you. I am so deeply sorry that I ever let you doubt that.”

 _“Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.”_ Crowley spoke quietly, reddening instantly when he met Aziraphale’s eyes. “What?! You liked that one.”

“I did. I never took you for such a terrible romantic, but perhaps I ought to have.” Aziraphale smiled fondly, warmed through by the wonderful realisation of how many of Crowley’s grand gestures over the years could be looked at in a romantic light. Crowley meanwhile wriggled in place, looking faintly uncomfortable at being found out, leading Aziraphale to catch him around the waist. “No sneaking out of this one, you sly old serpent. I know what you’re about.”

“You do, do you?” Crowley smirked, apparently on steadier ground with more familiar forms of teasing. He wriggled even harder, cackling sharply at Aziraphale’s struggle to keep hold, until Aziraphale had the absurd thought of the tale of Tam Lin and that he might have to hold Crowley through turning into a serpent and back before the demon would stop finding wiggling about the place so hilarious. 

“I do know you!” Aziraphale wrestled him around until Crowley was on his back on the couch, pinned between the angel’s legs and under his hands, panting roughly and grinning up at him. Aziraphale’s heart was beating fast, as much from the excitement of having Crowley beneath him as from the struggle. Crowley seemed to be having an equal amount of fun, but they hadn’t discussed this... “Unless you want me to let you back up?”

Crowley shook his head. “I like it, Angel. Feels like you want me.” 

“Of course I do. I want you to know it without me having to pin you in place.” 

“Okay, but. Right now I want you to want to pin me in place. So.” Crowley grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in close, and Aziraphale watched Crowley’s slitted pupils dilate with every inch of distance crossed. “Kisssss me.”

Aziraphale needed no further encouragement. He pressed Crowley down into the couch, kissing forcefully, feeling as well as hearing the groan that the demon let out. Crowley didn’t melt into the kiss as Aziraphale might have expected. He clawed and grabbed at Aziraphale’s clothing, undoing the waistcoat buttons before getting impatient and pulling Aziraphale’s shirt tails out of his trousers and ruching the combed white cotton as he got his hands underneath it. Desperation Aziraphale could understand, but this was frantic and almost panicked. 

He broke the kiss to ask if Crowley was alright, but didn’t have a chance to get a word in edgeways.

“Don’t stop. Aziraphale. I need you, alright?”

Aziraphale nodded, but moved his mouth to kiss and suck at Crowley’s neck instead. If Crowley’s mouth was left free, he might end up letting slip what was bothering him now, now that they no longer had anything to fear. It wasn’t as if Aziraphale didn’t enjoy being needed so desperately, if he were to be honest. It was a mirror to his own endless desire. And since he had carried on with having a cock since the night before, that desire was starting to express itself in a very insistent way. 

He kissed Crowley's neck, alternating light touches with nibbling and sucking, savouring the novel texture of Crowley's skin against his lips, and the taste, a trace of salt and something faintly burnt. That could have been left from Crowley's white-knuckle drive to Tadfield, his poor Bentley burning up around him, but the taste was pleasant nonetheless because it was _Crowley_. Meanwhile Crowley slid his hands fully under Aziraphale's shirt, hugging him close while getting peppered with kisses. To this the angel added stroking Crowley’s hair, an action that together with his other attentions had Crowley making the most adorable noises. 

It was having other effects too, with Crowley - bendy creature he was - hooking a leg around Aziraphale’s hips and rocking up against him. It wasn’t doing as much for Crowley as he wanted, because he groaned in frustration. “Angel, please. Make this easier for me.” 

Aziraphale nipped at Crowley’s neck and spoke against the reddened skin. “Stop wiggling about and lay back, and let’s see how we can do this right.” Crowley complied at once, letting go of Aziraphale’s back and all to lay there beneath him. He brought a hand up to cup and stroke Aziraphale’s cheek as the angel repositioned himself. He mustn’t want to stop touching. Aziraphale understood the feeling, and it was with that in mind that he lay right down on top of Crowley with their legs slotted together so they could grind against each other. 

“There we are. That’s better,” he said, then happily applied himself to mouthing at Crowley’s neck again, this time leaving kisses and hickies on the side of his neck that hadn’t yet been marked while Crowley squirmed beneath him. If Crowley wanted to miracle the marks away later, he could, but it thrilled Aziraphale to think that he might not. It was novel to be able to leave marks of their time together, and Aziraphale had to admit that it eased some needy and possessive part of him. Crowley was his now, not Hell's, and by equal measure he was now Crowley's alone.

He was brought out of his warm thoughts of how they belong to each other by a gasp of _"Angel"_ and a squeeze from the arms holding him tight.

"Yes, darling?" Aziraphale chirped, pressing his thigh between Crowley's skinny legs for good measure. He was rewarded with a sharp gasp. Crowley rocked against his thigh, panting, until he remembered to speak.

“Ah, fuck, that’s good. I want - kiss me again.” Crowley let his mouth hang open, panting. It was easy for Aziraphale to lean in and kiss him messily, tongues sliding together as Crowley made muffled noises against his lips. Aziraphale let Crowley hold on tightly and grind down on the soft weight of his thigh until at last Crowley went rigid against him, eyes shut tight as he arched back against the couch cushions. 

Aziraphale broke the kiss to hear him moaning weakly. “That’s it, darling. I’ve got you.” He stroked Crowley’s hair and watched the demon blink slowly up at him, eyes fully serpentine. The tension seemed to have gone out of him as he slumped back into the couch. “Feeling better?”

“Think sssso.” Crowley was breathing very deliberately. “Gimme a minute.” The minute consisted of Crowley staring up at him and patting at his cheeks and hair, like he was verifying Aziraphale was still there. “Ok.”

“Hmm. You seemed a bit panicked there at the start, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Couldn’t ssstop thinking of the closse call we had.” Crowley pulled a face, and stretched his jaw and stuck out his tongue before settling back to a normal expression. “There. No hissing. Anyway, it’s just. I came so fucking close to losing you. I needed to _feel_ you’re alright, here with me.”

“And here I am,” Aziraphale said, smiling down gently at him. 

“Yeah. There you are.” Crowley had reddened a touch, but smiled back all the same. “Can’t believe how blessed sentimental you make me.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale kissed him again, half dizzy from the press of their lips together and the warmth gathered between them, not to mention the distracting pulse between his legs. That last one was less urgent at that moment than ensuring his darling’s wellbeing. His thoughts were slow and treacle-sweet with love, his devotion the only power stronger than his desire. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Crowley rested his palm on the back of Aziraphale’s head and pulled him in for another lingering kiss, winding his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair and sending a shiver down along his spine. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you haven’t gotten off yet, Angel,” he murmured after.

“I wasn’t trying to hide it, it wasn’t as important as making you happy.” Now his attention had been drawn back to his arousal, he felt weak with it, over-warm in his layers of clothing, with Crowley deliberately shifting beneath him to rub against his trapped length and wring desperate little noises out of him.

"What makes me _happy_ is you indulging yourself. Seeing you overcome with how good your body can make you feel. It's delicious." Crowley licked his lips, and Aziraphale's gaze helplessly followed the line of his tongue. "Speaking of which. Can I suck your cock now?”

"Oh! Oh please. My member has been somewhat neglected, you're right…"

"Your _cock_ , Aziraphale. Co-ck." Crowley managed to make the very utterance of the word obscene. Aziraphale felt his face heat up.

"My cock, then. Please suck my cock, Crowley." Hearing himself say it, breathless and crude, was thrilling in its own way. Perhaps Crowley was right about updating his vocabulary, this one time. 

Crowley grinned sharply up at him. "Right you are, then. Let me up and I'll do that for you."

Aziraphale sat back on his haunches and undid his trousers while Crowley pulled himself up to a seated position and watched, the anticipation plain on his face, a glitter of mischief in his eyes that would have heralded some ridiculous scheme if the scheme this time hadn’t been driving Aziraphale insensate with pleasure. Or at least that’s where the demon’s expression sent Aziraphale’s feverish excuses for thoughts.

Once Aziraphale's cock was free, Crowley tugged him into place sitting at the edge of the couch and then dropped to his knees in front of him. He had a hungry expression, which Aziraphale had only seen rare hints of from Crowley before, and his lips gleamed with saliva as he nuzzled and kissed his way up the angel's thighs until he was rubbing his cheek against Aziraphale's length. His tongue darted out to give the tiniest lick to the head of the cock. Aziraphale couldn't help his whimper. "Crowley, _please_."

Crowley looked up with eyes filled with devotion and licked reverentially from base to tip. As he engulfed Aziraphale's cock with his warm mouth, Aziraphale could only dig his fingers into the couch cushions to stop from grabbing hold of Crowley's hair and shoving in right to the hilt. It felt like _worship_. Crowley hollowed his cheeks and did things with his sly serpentine tongue that left Aziraphale a shivering wreck. He was dimly aware that he was moaning and calling Crowley's name. It felt right to come undone for him, after Aziraphale had held himself back from loving Crowley properly for such a long, long time.

Aziraphale watched stupified as Crowley drew back until the head was all that was left in his mouth only to slide all the way down again and right to the base. It didn't _look_ comfortable, but Crowley's eyes were hooded and unfocused as if it felt exquisite. He did it again, sucking on Aziraphale’s cock on the way up and humming tunelessly on the way back down. Aziraphale had been building towards his peak as Crowley worshipped his cock and now he felt the tension heralding a gasping climax. He tapped urgently on Crowley's shoulder for the sake of being polite, and Crowley responded by sucking harder. Aziraphale came right down Crowley's throat, bent double and beyond words while Crowley just _swallowed_ and looked radiantly happy.

Once Aziraphale was well and truly finished, cock gone soft in Crowley's mouth, the demon slid off it and rested his cheek on Aziraphale's thigh.

"Ah fuck, Angel, that was good. You're going to have to use my mouth again soon," he rasped.

"I probably will," Aziraphale said, still recovering the ability to think after _that_ , and blushed crimson when he realised his boldness. "We, ah, don't have to stop yet. You're probably in need of a bit of relief again."

"'A bit of relief'," Crowley mocked but with a fond shake of his head, slithering up to kiss Aziraphale on the lips, perching on Aziraphale's lap with his arms around the angel's shoulders. "You're right, and there's plenty more positions we've yet to try. How's about you ride me?"

"I think I would be amenable to that," Aziraphale said, smiling in the full anticipation of neither of them leaving the couch again any time soon. After all, they had decades if not centuries of mutual desire to catch up on.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun working on this! Please let me know in the comments if you liked it, I love hearing what people think of my fics.


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